


tell me pretty lies (look me in the face)

by sparxwrites



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Temporary Character Death, Crying, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, Physical Abuse, Revenge, Self-Worth Issues, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: “Well listen. Percy, ah…” Vax hesitated, biting down on his lower lip as he picked his words with care. He could swear he'd not broken the skin, but his mouth tasted of blood, hot and bitter, sharp enough to make him feel a little sick. “We are not playing a game-”“No,” agreed Percy, voice uncharacteristically soft, restrained. His gaze never left Vax’s, unwavering in its emptiness – in its lack of remorse, lack of emotion, lack of human fucking decency. Vax grit his teeth.(When Vax corners Percy in his workshop, after Vex's death, he doesn't stop at one punch.)





	tell me pretty lies (look me in the face)

“Well listen. Percy, ah…” Vax hesitated, biting down on his lower lip as he picked his words with care. He could swear he'd not broken the skin, but his mouth tasted of blood, hot and bitter, sharp enough to make him feel a little sick. “We are not playing a game-”

“No,” agreed Percy, voice uncharacteristically soft, restrained. His gaze never left Vax’s, unwavering in its emptiness – in its lack of remorse, lack of emotion, lack of _human fucking decency_. Vax grit his teeth.

The hollow grief he'd come in here feeling was slowly giving way to anger – the slow, smouldering kind that burned low in his stomach, like he was being eaten alive from the inside out. “-and we will all make mistakes,” he continued, as if the horror of the past twenty-four hours wasn't threatening to choke him. “And I… wager I will make my fair share. I have little doubt. And Percival, I want to apologise. I'm sorry. But, I…”

His hands had been curling into fists as he spoke, knuckles white and creaking with the strain. It was easy, so fucking easy, to raise one, and punch Percy right in his smug, know-it-all face.

If felt _good_ , in a dark, vicious sort of way – put some fire back into the numb, aching space of his chest. Oh, he felt bad on some level, watching Percy stagger backwards with sadness but not surprise in his eyes, but it was all lost under the roaring in his ears. He wanted Percy to _hurt_ , the way he was hurting, the way Percy had hurt Vex, the way Percy had hurt _him-_

For a moment, he understood how Percy had felt, with smoke billowing from him and Orthax whispering vengeance in his ear. He understood why Percy hadn’t wanted to let go of the gun.

He didn’t have a gun. But he _did_ have his fists and, more importantly, he had _Percy_ , touching his split, bloodied lip with a quiet gentleness bordering on reverence. As Vax watched, his tongue darted out, a flash of pink swiping at the beading red of his blood.

Ordinarily, Vax would have been impressed with Percy for taking the punch without complaint, without flinching. Now, though, his stillness – and more importantly, the pity in his eyes – only made Vax’s blood boil.

This time, when Vax took a swing, Percy wasn’t prepared.

Vax could see his surprise in the way his eyes widened, mouth half-parted. He’d moved with the first punch, taken the edge off it by rolling with it a little, but this one… He didn’t manage that with this one, twitching abortively in his shock, and Vax’s blow found its mark squarely in the middle of Percy’s face.

Something _gave_ under Vax’s fist with a wet _crunch_ , and Percy reeled back with a half-cry of pain, blood streaming thick and hot down his face. On hand rose to his freely-bleeding nose as he took a stumbling step backwards, wide-eyed and unsure. There was no pity in them now, Vax noticed, with a vicious kind of pleasure, just confusion and a the slightest hint of _fear_.

“Vax…?” asked Percy, softly, uncertainly, a tremor blurring the clipped edges of his usually impeccable accent. “I-”

Vaz didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. Another blow stole his words, jarred a gasp of pain loose from his chest. _Another_ hit hard enough to crack his head against the wall with a solid, hollow _thunk_. Vax expected him to cry out at that, to yell, to maybe try and fight back – but all that left his chest was a wheeze, dazed and pained, eyes gone hazy and unfocused from the impact.

Backhanding him returned some of the clarity to his gaze, left the pale skin of his cheek blooming red-purple in the shape of Vax’s hand. Baring his teeth, Vax grabbed a handful of his stupid hair, and pinned him bodily against the wall, pressing close until there was no space between them. Like this, he could feel the heave of Percy’s chest against his, the rabbit-fast beat of his heart, the way both of them were trembling.

“You killed my sister, Percival,” he managed, voice rough and ragged. “Say it. _Admit_ it.”

When Percy said nothing – eyes averted, hands loose at his sides, face bruising slow shades of purple and blue – Vax snarled, stepped back, and slammed Percy’s head against the wall.

The noise Percy made was _awful_ , a wounded-animal cry of surprise and betrayal half-masked by the sound of skull against stone. It was a dreadful sound, dull and hollow, made worse by the way the confusion in Percy’s eyes had sharpened to _fear_ , through the sick haze of pain.

Vax couldn’t help himself, though – did it again, and again, and _again_ , until Percy was glassy-eyed and trembling and keening agony low in the back of his throat, knees buckled, held up only by Vax’s grip.

“Say you killed her!” yelled Vax, voice raw like he was the one that had been beaten. He let go of Percy’s hair, took a step back and watched as Percy slid to the floor, limp and boneless, his white hair slicked crimson with blood. It was easy, _so easy_ , to aim a kick at his stomach, drive the wind out of him with a well-placed foot and listen to him choke as he crumpled.

He knelt there, for a long moment, silent and curled over into an almost-ball, breath coming out in painful wheezes. Vax wondered distantly, coolly, if he’d hit the solar plexus – Percy certainly seemed to be having enough trouble catching his breath for it to be the case. It was almost pathetic, really, watching him twitch and flinch as he struggled to suck in air, blood running in thin rivulets down the back of his neck and the sides of his face.

“Is- is this- making… you feel better, Vax?”

Percy’s voice was soft, words slurred together as he inhaled and exhaled in hitching gasps, bloodied saliva drooling to the floor from his bitten tongue between swollen lips. Hunched over as he was, on his knees with his arms around his stomach and his head bowed to the floor, Vax couldn’t see his face, but there was no anger or sarcasm to his words – just sharp, bitter curiosity, and something close to resignation.

“Ripley,” he murmured, swaying forward for a half-second until his forehead nearly touched the flagstone slabs that made up the floor, before rocking back with a shaky breath. “She… she used to… say that it was very- _therapeutic_. Hurting me. I… I hope it’s helping.”

Vax grit his teeth, dug fingernails into his palm until they cut through the skin to the flesh below. He knew what Percy was trying to do, and was determined not to let it work, even as the guilt began to creep icy-cold down his spine. _Gods_ , Percy’s head looked half caved in, blood-slick hair dripping crimson onto the floor, and he’d done that, _he’d done that_ -

“You _killed_ her,” he managed, voice ragged, face twisted in furious grief. Anger was easier than thinking, than considering what he’d _done_. “You deserve this, you bastard.” It sounded hollow even to him, fake, but he’d said it and couldn’t take it back. _Wouldn’t_ take it back.

“Yes,” said Percy, quietly, crystal-clear conviction in his words despite the lack of strength to his voice, the way his words were slurring. He sounded almost _drunk_ with it, lips and tongue too slow and clumsy despite how dazed he felt. Something in the back of his brain was whispering about head wounds, and concussion, but he couldn’t hear quite _what_ it was saying. “I do. I know.”

For a long moment, they were both frozen – Percy, on his knees, white hair bloodied, body curled in on itself as though making himself small was enough to hide him from the pain. Vax, standing tall, hands bloodied, guilt beginning to curdle in the pit of his stomach

“Say it,” breathed Vax, hands trembling, eyes wide and an inch away from tears. The rage, too, had faded, leaving behind- something. He wasn’t sure what the emotion was, grief or guilt or exhausted terror, but it was _cold_. Like an empty, icy void in his chest, a hollow disconnect between him and the world. Nothing seemed real any more. “Just- say you killed her, Percy. Say it.”

Percy exhaled slowly, blood bubbling through his broken nose with an awful, wet sound, breath wheezing in his chest. “I-” he managed, and the word came out as a gasp, as a sob, damp and fractured and cut off somewhere in his throat. He rocked forward again, forehead pressed to the floor, and this time didn’t pull away. “Yes. _Yes_. I killed her.”

It was as if saying it finally made it real. Vax watched Percy’s form, curled tight on the floor, crumple – the trembling tension leeching from the curve of his back and high arch of his shoulder blades as he slumped against the flagstones.

If Vax were in a more sympathetic mood, seeing someone usually so proud and strong made small and bloodied at his feet would have been pitiful. As it was, he felt nothing. No joy, no anger, even his grief dulled and hollow under the sheer, numbing weight of his lack of feeling. His heart had turned cold in his chest, and he was suddenly _tired_ , as if he hadn’t slept for a week.

Distracted, it took a moment for him to realise that the soft noise he could hear, somewhere under the pounding of his own heart in his ears, was Percy _crying_.

He stood there, just watching, for a long minute. There was something almost voyeuristic to it, he thought, watching Percy’s shoulders shudder with every wracking sob, listening to him heave the heavy, broken noises up from somewhere deep inside him. Eventually, though, he had to look away, the sick feeling slowly growing in his stomach forcing his gaze upwards.

“I’m sure you’ve got a healing potion around here somewhere,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. Even determinedly not looking downwards, he could hear the damp wheezing of Percy’s breath in his ears like an accusation. “Use it.” He turned to the door, jaw clenched so tight it ached, and paused. “...Good night, Percival.”

There was no response, other than a soft, hitching sob, and the quiet scrape of blunt fingernails against stone. Head held high, with guilt and grief like stones weighing down his stomach, Vax walked out the room without another word.

**Author's Note:**

> some more percy!whump, since that’s apparently all i’m capable of or interested in writing atm. not for hc_bingo, this time - i started writing it well before i signed up, and it didn’t really fit any of the prompts. mostly a result of my surprise at the fact vax stopped at one punch after vex’s death. written to “[idfc (acoustic)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NR7-n-D2HhA)” by blackbear, which is possibly the most vax-related song ever written.
> 
> come find me @sparxwrites on tumblr and talk to me about sad stuff.


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